Will's Peril
by fireicewriter42
Summary: "Would you have done that in his place? Would you have left him and gone on?" So what would Halt have done if Will had been the one shot? Dun dun dun! Will's Peril. I own nothing.
1. Chapter 1: Shot

Halt's heart stopped at the most chilling sound he had heard in his long years as a Ranger: Will's brief cry of pain, followed by the sound of his bow dropping.

"Will!" he shouted, all thought of the Genovesan forgotten for a moment. He searched vainly, looking to where Will had risen into view. There was no sign of him. Halt felt fear clench his heart as he realized Will was down. He's hit, Halt thought with horror. He whirled angrily towards the sound of the escaping Genovesan. He released three quick arrows, but none found their mark. He snarled a little at the retreating form but then turned his attention back to his fallen apprentice. He ran to where Will had fallen. Will was doubled over, turned away from him.

"Will!" he yelled, concern coloring his voice. He fell to his knees beside Will. "Will! Where are you hit?" Will didn't answer. Halt's face grew pale. _Will, no, oh please son, no._ His apprentice turned over, groaning. Halt felt relief flood him.

"I'm...okay," Will gasped. "The bolt grazed my arm. Hurts like anything."

"Let me look at it," Halt said gently. He sighed in relief when he saw that the wound was indeed only a scrape. He glanced up at his apprentice's clenched teeth, knowing he was in pain. A miniscule expression of pity crossed his brow as he gently touched the wound, causing Will to wince. Halt cut away Will's sleeve and dressed it with the kit at his belt.

"He almost missed you," Halt commented. "Only a centimeter to the left, and you would have been fine." Will grimaced as Halt washed the wound. Halt looked at him apologetically.

"Where's the other Genovesan?" Will asked.

"He got away," Halt admitted, knowing Will would blame himself. His suspicions were confirmed by the stricken and ashamed look on Will's face.

"I'm sorry, Halt," he told him. "If I had done…"

"There was nothing you could have done, Will," Halt interrupted quickly, tying a bandage around his arm. "Neither of us could have known we would aim for the same Genovesan."

"Not only did I let the other one get away, but I got shot in the bargain," Will frowned, feeling as though he had let his mentor down.

"Will, stop," Halt ordered, laying a hand on Will's shoulder. "It's not your fault. At least we got one of them. And I would rather have not gotten either of them if it would have prevented you being shot." Halt glanced down. Will smiled.

"I'm fine," he assured him.

"I know that, but now I have to mend your jacket," Halt replied gruffly. Will grinned.

"Well I can't do it, I'm wounded!" he rejoined. Halt gave him one of his rare smiles, merely glad Will was still there at all. He helped his pupil to his feet and retrieved his bow.

"Probably ought to get back to Horace," Halt commented. "He'll be going crazy."

Will was quiet as they set out the next day. Halt noted his apprentice's disinterest in their conversation as they rode through the forest. He realized he hadn't heard Will say more than two words the entire morning.

"You alright?" he inquired, reaching over to clap him on the shoulder.

"Fine," Will answered, not even looking up. Halt frowned a little. He watched his apprentice worriedly. Once or twice, he caught him rubbing his wounded arm.

"Is your arm alright?" Halt asked his apprentice.

"Perfectly fine," Will replied. He stopped rubbing it. Halt raised an eyebrow. He glanced at Horace. Something was bothering Will. Horace shrugged; he figured Will was still down on himself for not getting the other Genovesan. Halt was more worried however. Will was never this quiet unless something was bothering him. He always had something to say, some question to ask. They reached the bank of a small creek and Halt caught sight of tracks. He stopped to examine them.

"Most definitely our men," Halt affirmed.

"Heading south?" Horace asked. Halt nodded.

"Should we camp here then?" Will asked suddenly. Halt looked at him in surprise.

"Will, it's noon!" he frowned.

"Oh," Will shrugged. Halt frowned at him again, but mounted without a word. He continued to watch Will, who was beginning to mutter to himself very faintly. Halt grew concerned. His apprentice was usually so focused. He seemed distracted. Something stirred in the bushes to their right, and Will reacted instantly. He fired an arrow into the bush before Halt could stop him.

"Will!" Halt cried out. Will did not move, but stared into the bush.

"What is it?" Horace asked in confusion. Halt dismounted and went quickly to the bush. Will's arrow was sunk deep into the neck of a chipmunk.

"Frightened by a chipmunk?" he asked his former apprentice a little sternly.

"Thought it might be the Genovesans," Will shrugged, putting down his bow.

"Genovesans?" Halt asked, incredulously. "Will, that bush wouldn't conceal a three year old! And there's only one Genovesan, remember?"

"You got one?" Will inquired, turning a blank gaze on him.

"We both did," Halt replied, a hint of alarm creeping into his voice. Will shrugged again, and kept riding. Halt quickly mounted to follow him.

"How's the arm?" Halt asked, riding close to his apprentice.

"Fine, why do you keep asking?" Will snapped. Halt's eyebrows shot higher. Will never used that tone, especially not with him.

"Will, hold on," Halt reached out and grabbed Tug's reins.

"Let go! Now!" Will shouted. Horace gasped. He had never heard Will speak so disrespectfully to Halt. Halt's brows drew together.

"Will!" Halt replied sternly. "Stop. Now." Will's expression contorted for a split second, as if realizing what he had done. Tug snorted, trying to look back at Will, as if he sensed something was wrong. Will glared again.

"Tug stop it!" he snapped. Halt's jaw dropped. Rangers never spoke to their horses like that.

"We should get going," Will said sharply. "The Scotti will reach Macindaw soon!"

"Macindaw? Will, what in the world…," Horace asked. Halt's suspicions were confirmed. Will was not in his right mind. Will jerked the reins from Halt and urged Tug into a canter before Halt could stop him. Halt followed him, his expression grim and anxious.

"Will, wait up! That's an order!" Halt yelled. He heard Horace behind him. His apprentice suddenly slumped in the saddle and fell to the ground.

"Will!" Horace shouted in anguish. Halt felt his heart drop. He drew Abelard up next to Will and flung himself down on the ground next to his former apprentice; but Will wasn't breathing.


	2. Chapter 2: Poison

**A/N: Hi guys! So glad you like this one. Appreciate all the great, encouraging reviews and constructive criticism. So, without further ado, here's chapter two! (Hey, that rhymes!) Enjoy!**

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"Will? Will!" Halt grasped his apprentice shoulder, shaking him. Tug whinnied frantically behind him. Halt immediately began resuscitative procedures. Horace reined in behind Halt, dismounting quickly. He watched Halt in horror.

"Is he…," Horace began. Will gave a gasping shudder and began breathing, but remained unconscious. Horace breathed a sigh of relief.

"He's alive," Halt stated the obvious, more to reassure himself than anything else. "Still Tug!" Tug was nuzzling Will's face and shoulders. The young Ranger moaned, his head rolling to the side. Will shudder, sucking in more air.

"It's alright boy," Halt spoke, not sure whether he was talking to Will or Tug. He gently shooed Tug back and felt Will's head. Will gave another shuddering sob.

"No fever," Halt frowned. "Horace, lift his head." Horace did so, and Halt bunched up his cloak to make a cushion for Will's head.

"What's wrong with him?" Horace asked anxiously. Halt didn't respond, frowning in concentration. He felt Will's pulse. It was weak and fluttery, but Halt acknowledged a moment of relief that it was there.

"Well?" Horace demanded.

"I don't know, Horace!" Halt snapped. "Would you be quiet and let me think?" Horace hardly reacted to Halt's harshness, knowing it was due to his worry for his apprentice. A look of realization and horror crossed Halt's face. _It has to be,_ he groaned to himself. He tried to push Will's sleeve up, but it was too tight. Halt ripped away the sleeve, checking the arrow wound underneath. The bandage was still in place. Halt leaned in and immediately withdrew as a putrid smell greeted him. He carefully slid his throwing knife under the tight bandage and cut it. Tug neighed in alarm.

"It's alright Tug," Halt soothed, never taking his eyes off Will. He tried to pull away the bandage, but it was stuck to Will's arm. Halt groaned a little.

"Horace, hand me your canteen," he ordered. Horace hurried to comply. Halt slowly drizzled water on the bandage and carefully peeled it away. He winced at the sight underneath. The wound was still weeping, whereas it should have scabbed over. The flesh around the wound was a sickly yellow that then turned to a dark bruised blue. Will's entire upper arm was swollen almost twice in size. Thick pus had oozed from the wound and coated his upper arm. The smell of infection permeated the air. Halt gently touched the discolored skin, finding it hot and feverish. Horace sucked in his breath behind Halt. He had seen battle wounds and infection before, but this was worse than anything he had ever seen.

"How can it be infected? You cleaned it immediately, right?" Horace asked.

"It's not infected, it's poison," Halt sighed in frustration. "Genovesans are famous for it. It's their favorite way of killing."

"But...you can cure it right?" Horace gulped.

"I'm not a healer," Halt groaned. "I have no idea what poison this is or how to treat it."

"So...what do we do?" Horace croaked. Halt closed his eyes, his hands balling into fists. Will could lose his arm, or die, and Halt had no idea how to help him. _How could I not have known? I should have pressed him harder this morning when he was acting so strange. How could I be so blind?_ Halt shook himself. Blaming himself wouldn't help Will. But what do I do? _We're in the middle of nowhere, and he could be dying! I'm not going to lose him because I was too stupid to see there was a problem. I will not lose him!_

"Halt?" Horace asked tentatively. "What do we do?"

"We clean the wound," Halt said, his voice betraying none of his uncertainty. "It's all we can do right now." Horace nodded.

"Start a fire. We'll need to sterilize bandages," Halt ordered.

"I guess we'll be stopping here then," Horace glanced at Halt. The grizzled Ranger was trying not to show it, but Horace knew he was tearing himself apart with worry. He laid a hand on Halt's shoulder.

"He'll be okay," he murmured. Halt looked up at him and gave him a small nod. Horace forced a smile and set to work. Halt gripped Will's hand.

"It's going to be okay, Will," he whispered. "I'm not letting you leave me here. Not like this. You're gonna be fine." _You have to be._


	3. Chapter 3: I'm here

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for the great, encouraging reviews. Here's chapter 3. This one took me a little bit longer, but hopefully it's worth it. Get ready for fluff!**

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Halt sat back with a sigh. He had spent the last two hours cleaning the arrow wound in Will's upper arm. After gently clearing away the pus, he had applied a painkilling salve to the wound. Halt knew that had Will been awake, he would have fought Halt using the salve. It was derived from warmweed, and Will never liked having anything to do with the drug. Halt knew Will's experience in Skandia still haunted his apprentice. Halt had decided against re bandaging the arm, deciding instead to boil a pad of linen and allow it to cool a little, then drape it over the wound. He then had lain a cool damp cloth over Will's swollen upper arm. An hour later, Horace had the campsite set up and dinner ready. Halt hardly noticed, his eyes never leaving Will's pale face.

"How's he doing?" Horace asked, handing Halt a plate of stew.

"I've done all I can. Now we just have to wait," Halt replied. "I've heard of warmweed being used to treat snakebites, so maybe it will have an effect against this poison." Halt frowned a little.

"What is it?" Horace inquired quickly, catching Halt's look of concern. Halt opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind.

"Nothing." He took a bite of the stew and made a face. "What did you put in this, dirt?"

"Sorry, I'm not as good at campfire cooking as Will," Horace shrugged, trying not to grimace as he took a bite.

"I'll teach you later," a soft, weak voice told him. Halt nearly dropped his plate.

"Will!" Halt exclaimed. He put down his plate. He felt Will's fingers groping for his hand and returned the weak grip. Halt couldn't deny a feeling of intense joy at seeing Will in his right mind. He realized he was shaking a little from relief and tried to reel in his emotions. Tug whinnied and stepped closer to his master, nuzzling his hand. _Don't you do something that stupid again_ , Tug admonished sternly. Will half-smiled and gently patted Tug's muzzle.

"I'm okay, boy," he whispered.

"He hasn't gone more than five feet from you since you collapsed. Nosy little thing. I could feel him staring at me when I cleaned your wound," Halt grumbled, hiding a smile at seeing the two together. Tug snorted indignantly. _As if I was going to let him take care of you without my input._ Will laughed weakly. He stroked Tug a moment more, then gently shooed him away. Tug reluctantly shambled over to Abelard, but still kept a close eye on his sick master.

"How you feeling?" Horace asked, clapping Will on his good shoulder.

"Like I went a few rounds with a bezerk Skandian," Will groaned, his eyes half closed. Horace smirked.

"You look like it too," he joked, but his voice caught a little when he remembered the fear he had felt when Will had stopped breathing.

"So what happened?" Will slurred, turning back to Halt.

"The bolt you were hit with was poisoned," Halt explained. "I'm sorry, Will, I should have thought of it sooner."

"You couldn't have known," Will said sleepily. Halt smiled slightly as Will fought a losing battle against sleep and utter exhaustion.

"You should rest now," Halt told him.

"Mmm," Will hummed, his eyelids sinking lower. "Sounds good…"

"Horace, can you help me carrying over to his bedroll?" Halt asked. Will's eyes flew open.

"I can walk," he insisted quickly. Halt frowned at him.

"No, you can't," Halt told him firmly, "and don't even think about arguing." Will had opened his mouth to retort, but decided it wasn't worth the effort.

"Think we should move him into the tent?" Horace asked.

"No, I think the fresh air might be good for him," Halt replied, glancing up at the clear sky. "The weather looks good, and inside the tent might be a bit stifling. Especially with that wound still draining." Horace nodded. The knight had noticed the smell still faintly present around Will's upper arm. Halt and Will carried him over to his bedroll, and Will was fast asleep seconds after laying down. Halt ruffled Will's hair and smiled down at him, but inwardly he worried to see his usually energetic apprentice so drained.

"So how's he doing really?" Horace inquired, a serious tone to his voice. Halt sighed and motioned Horace over away from Will.

"Honestly, I have no idea. I've done all I know to do, but I'm a long way from a healer," Halt sighed again. "I told you warmweed can be used for snakebites?" Horace nodded. "Usually it only slows the effect of the venom. With poisons...often the victim appears to be doing better, then relapses. Each time, the person gets a little worse until they die." Halt's voice quavered at the last word.

"So...what do we do? We can't just let him die!" Horace's voice rose a little frantically.

"Believe me, I'm not going to," Halt rubbed his forehead, "but I don't even know what the poison was, let alone how to treat it. There's nothing I can do."

"So we find someone who can," Horace said firmly.

"Who? We're in the middle of nowhere. Even if we found a healer, we couldn't be sure if he would know what he was doing," Halt clenched a fist in frustration. "Why couldn't I just have checked that arm sooner?"

"We would still be in the exact same situation, even if we had caught it sooner," Horace cautiously laid a hand on Halt's shoulder. Halt smiled at him weakly.

"Thanks Horace. For everything." Horace nodded.

"Now what are we going to do to help Will?" Horace asked.

"I don't know," Halt sighed a little defeatedly.

"Isn't a healer the best option at this point?" Horace pressed.

"A bad healer could kill him, if the trip to find one didn't," Halt argued. "I'm not taking that risk."

"If we leave him here, he will die," Horace swallowed hard. "I'm not going to stand by and watch as my best friend dies." Halt winced. He felt tears begin to rise in his eyes. He had never felt so helpless and uncertain in his life. _Because I'm holding Will's life in my hands. What I decide next could kill him, or save him_. Halt shuddered a little. Losing Will would be one thing, but to forever live with the knowledge that he might could have stopped it would be more than Halt could live with.

"We'll wait a bit," Halt decided, blinking back tears and forcing his voice to sound steady. "If Will seems to be getting worse, we'll try to find a healer. Tomorrow we'll start building a sledge in case we need to move him." Horace hesitated, but nodded.

"I'll take first watch," Halt stated.

"Are you sure Halt? I can watch him for a bit, if you want to rest," Horace offered. Halt smiled slightly and shook his head.

"I'm sure. You get some rest." Horace gave Halt a tight smile back.

"Wake me when you get tired." Halt nodded in agreement. Horace knew that Halt would most likely push himself to watch Will as long as possible, but he also knew that he would probably wake himself up before Halt did.

"Night Halt."

"Night, Horace." Horace stretched out on his bedroll, and after checking the horses, Halt took up his post by Will. He checked Will's pulse, more to reassure himself than anything else. He changed the cool cloths on Will's upper arm, instinctively shushing his apprentice when Will stirred and muttered. He leaned back against a tree, gently stroking Will's hair as he tossed a little in his sleep.

"You're making me soft, boy," Halt smiled. Abelard snorted a few feet behind him. _That boy made you soft years ago._

"True," Halt acquiesced, "but he's worth it." _He'll do great things_ , Abelard agreed.

"He already has," Halt said softly. A memory rose to his mind as he watched Will.

* * *

 _Will had just returned from a successful mission at Castle Macindaw. Halt had been extremely proud of his apprentice's actions. He knew Will was wrestling with his relationship with pretty Alyss Mainwaring, and before seeing Will off back to Seacliff, he had laid a hand on Will's shoulder._

 _"You know I'm proud of you, right?" he asked. Will smiled a little._

 _"Yes, you've already told me."_

 _"And you know I love you like a son, right?" Will looked up in surprise._

 _"I...I love you too, Halt."_

 _"That wasn't what I asked." Will swallowed, then grinned broadly._

 _"Yeah. I know." Halt nodded once._

 _"You are a great Ranger Will. I mean it when I say I couldn't be prouder of you. Your quick thinking, resourcefulness, courage; they make you great at what you do."_

 _"Thanks Halt. That means a lot to me." Will blushed. They embraced quickly before Will mounted Tug._

 _"Stop hiding your feelings Will. You taught me how to open up. Maybe it's time you do the same thing," Halt gave him a piercing look. Will's eye widened, and his jaw went slack. He looked much like he had as an apprentice and Halt had caught him skipping out on training._

 _"How did...what…," Will stammered. Halt grinned mischievously._

 _"Alyss is a fine girl," he teased. Will stared at him for a minute, then smirked._

 _"See you later, Halt," he leaned down and clasped hands with his mentor._

 _"Enjoy Seacliff," Halt smiled knowingly. He had a feeling Will would be visiting Redmont sooner rather than later. Will raised an eyebrow, then just shook his head. He rode away, glancing back at his grizzled mentor._

 _"Bye, son."_

* * *

Halt brushed away a tear as a particularly loud moan from Will pulled him out of his brief reverie.

"Shh, son. It's okay. I'm here."


	4. Chapter 4: Help

**A/N: What's up guys? I know, I took forever. Thank you for the awesome reviews! I've gotten some fantastic suggestions/ideas from them and some great constructive criticism. So here's chapter 4! Enjoy!**

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Bacari slunk closer to the camp. The old man was hovering over the boy as the young archer tossed and turned, mumbling incoherently in his sleep. The other boy, the big one with the sword, was sleeping not far from the coals of the campfire. Bacari smiled a little to himself. The boy didn't have much chance of surviving a fortnight, maybe a little longer if he fought hard. He'd sit and watch them for a while, then report back to the charlatan. Tennyson was beginning to outlive his usefulness. When Bacari was confident of where Tennyson kept his gold, he had decided to relieve Tennyson of some of his extorted load and leave. However, until he did find Tennyson's traveling treasure hoard, he would continue on with the job. If he played this right, he could squeeze a good bit more money out of Tennyson for this job as well. He had watched the old man with the boy. They were obviously close, maybe even father and son. The big boy seemed close to the little archer as well. They would be distraught trying to help their friend; that would make them careless. Bacari was counting on the old man running himself ragged taking care of the boy, then he would take a shot at him. But only if Tennyson agreed to pay well. Bacari knew that these were trained fighters, and he had no intention of risking himself against the two unless it was for a good bit of money. Bacari was confident in his abilities though. The boy was already on his way to death's door. Now it was just time to send the others along after him.

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Halt and Horace had switched off an hour or so after midnight. Will had been sleeping peacefully when Horace had forced Halt to get some sleep.

"Call me if there's any change," Halt muttered, still glancing worriedly at Will.

"I will, Halt, get some rest," Horace assured him. But Will slept soundly until just before sunrise. Horace had stood and was stretching when he heard Will's weak voice.

"Horace? What happened?"

"Will!" Horace crouched next to his friend. "It's good to see you awake."

"What happened? Where's Evanlyn?" Will mumbled.

"Evanlyn?" Horace frowned. "Will, what are you…" Horace trailed off. Will wasn't in his right mind.

"We have to burn the bride," Will tossed a little. "We can't let Morgarath get across. We have…"

"Shh, Will, it's okay," Horace placed a hand on Will's shoulder. "The bridge is burned. Morgarath can't get across."

"It...it's gone? We did it?" Will asked.

"You and Evanlyn burned it. It's gone," Horace soothed him. He winced a little when he remembered the night. They had both been apprentices, young and inexperienced. He remembered the fear he felt when the bridge had gone up in flames, but his friends had not come back across. He had ridden like a madman, frantic to help his kidnapped friends. The memory of the night still occasionally haunted his nightmares.

"The Skandians...they captured us," Will frowned. "Slagor...in the cabin...I can't let him hurt Evanlyn."

"Evanlyn's safe, Will," Horace tried to reassure him. "She's in Castle Araluen, safe with her father."

"That's right," Will sighed. "She's really a princess. Cassandra. She doesn't look like a Cassandra. She'll always be Evanlyn to me. Can't let Ragnak know who she is. He'll kill her. Can't let that happen...have to protect her." Horace bit his lip. Will's sense of time was completely confused. It pained Horace to see his best friend so weak and addled. He squeezed Will's shoulder gently.

"She's safe, Will," Horace repeated "You can rest now."

"Doesn't sound too bad," Will agreed, his eyelids sinking lower. Horace sat back with a sigh. The sun was almost fully up, and Halt stirred from where he lay by the fire. The grizzled Ranger sat up with a groan, his neck sore from sleeping in a strange position.

"How is he?" Halt asked immediately, moving to stand by Horace.

"He just woke up," Horace told him softly.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Halt demanded. Horace swallowed hard.

"He wasn't in his right mind," Horace explained. "He was talking about Evanlyn and the bridge. He mentioned Slagor and protecting Evanlyn from Ragnak." Halt's frown deepened. He didn't make any response, but he crouched next to Horace, reaching out to lay a hand on his apprentice's forehead.

"He's a little warm," Halt frowned. "I should probably change that dressing." Horace nodded.

"I'll fix breakfast," he offered.

"Thanks," Halt smiled tightly at him. Horace gave him a small smile in return. Horace stirred up the coals of their fire, and Halt boiled more bandages. He gently cleaned the wound, noticing the smell of corruption was stronger. He applied more of the warmweed salve, then laid another linen pad over it. The arm was slightly cooler to the touch, but Halt laid a cool cloth over Will's upper arm anyway. Horace handed Halt a plate of cold meat and pickles, along with a hot mug of coffee.

"Thanks," Halt said, taking the plate. Horace merely nodded. They ate in silence, both of them staring at the sleeping Will.

"We're running low on fresh food," Horace commented. "Thought I might set a few traps today to replenish our supply." Halt nodded absently.

"What about finding a healer?" Horace asked after another moment's silence. Halt sighed.

"I don't think he should be moved. We can't drag him all over creation in this state."

"But if we don't get him help soon…" Horace trailed off. He bit his lip. He refused to let Will die. Will was his best friend, his brother. Will was the one that always showed up in time. Will came up with the crazy schemes and somehow made them work. Will was the one who burned the bridge. Will was the one who led the archers in Skandia. Will was the one who found an army in the middle of the desert. Will was the one who never gave up, no matter how the odds were stacked against him. Horace refused to accept that Will would be beaten by a scratch from a crossbow bolt. He wouldn't let him be beaten. He wouldn't let him die.

"We have to do something," Horace finally stated. "He could die."

"Don't you think I know that!" Halt snapped. Horace raised his eyebrows. Halt sat his plate down and put his head in his hands. Horace almost gaped at him. He had never seen Halt so...vulnerable. He wasn't sure what to do. Finally, he went over and put his arm around Halt. It felt strange, comforting the great Halt. But somehow it felt right. They sat like that for several minutes before Halt straightened.

"Thanks, Horace. Sorry I snapped," Halt said softly. Horace merely nodded. Halt took a deep breath.

"We can't just sit here and do nothing," Halt stated firmly. "We have to help Will." Horace nodded again.

"We'll find a healer," Halt continued. "There has to a village somewhere near here that has one. We'll have to move him, we have no choice. I don't like it, but we may have to traipse all over the place to find a healer. We might not have time to find one and bring them here." Horace nodded again. He pulled a map from Halt's saddle bag. He handed it to Halt, who unfurled it on the ground in front of them. Halt began searching for the larger villages when Horace sucked in his breath.

"What?" Halt asked, turning towards him. Horace pointed wordlessly to the map. Macindaw.

"Castle Macindaw? What…" Halt stopped short. Will had made a friend on his mission to Macindaw. A healer. A very talented healer.

"Malcolm," Horace breathed. "If anyone can help Will, Malcolm can. We know where he is, he's close enough to bring back here. He'll do anything for Will. I know he'll come." Halt nodded slowly.

"How do I find him?"


End file.
